


Payback

by Sioux



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:43:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for the end of the Buffy Series 5<br/>Joss owns the characters no infringement meant, only letting them out to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback

Giles wandered restlessly around his home. Altering the position of an ornament or a framed photograph here and there. Absently-mindedly he sipped his single malt and continued on his perambulations.

Curiously Dawn watched him from the bottom of the stairs. As Giles' restless walking brought him back to the dining table he stopped to look again at a large book which lay there, it's spine marked by constant turning to that point in the narrative.

"Now I really how they felt," he murmured, "And I wish to God I didn't."

Two crystal tears ran down his face but he didn't bother to wipe them away.

Dawn bowed her head. She had crept downstairs because she craved company, but she felt she was intruding on Giles' all too real grief. Grief he had managed to keep hidden from her for the best part of three weeks. Quietly she padded back up stairs into the guest bedroom and into bed. She felt cold and empty. Willow was in LA seeing Angel and telling him the bad news. Tara was asleep in the other bedroom. Xandor and Anya were together at his place. Buffy wasn't here to help anymore. Buffy wasn't even here! Quietly she cuddled down under her quilt and let the tears fall.

Several hours later Dawn was awakened by a strange noise from downstairs. She lay awake for some minutes listening, before she got out of bed, put on her outdoor clothing and shoes and then crept downstairs. 

Downstairs the noise was louder than ever. She looked around for Giles but couldn't see him. It sounded like someone was sawing away at something. Then she heard the sound for what it really was and looked about for the culprit. 

There he was, laid on the floor, his head on the sofa, mouth open and snoring! Giles looked so uncomfortable, with his spilled glass of whiskey still in his hand, his head at a very awkward angle and snoring fit to wake the dead. 

Wake the dead. Now that was a phrase that could conjure demons. 

When their mother had died, she'd tried to raise her again, then lost her nerve at the last minute. Not such a bad thing, Spike had assured her later. Spike, another dead thing, who wasn't around anymore. He had limped away after the final battle, badly injured and mauled by several of the entities who had come through the portal, but, because he was a vampire no-one had bothered to find out how he was. 

When he hadn't been to visit Buffy's grave for several nights after she had been buried Dawn had voiced her concern to Giles. Giles had gently but firmly told her not to worry. Spike would be back when he had the worst of his grief under control. 

But he hadn't been back. And he hadn't been to Buffy's grave either. Dawn had left a note there each night and each morning it had still been fluttering in the breeze. She was sure Spike would have come by to at least visit, if he had been able. 

Then Xandor had tried to give her the cut-down,' but he's a vampire and can go off to where and when he wants' talk. She had listened, politely, but privately thought he didn't know what he was talking about. Spike had loved Buffy with all his undead heart, of that she was sure. He also cared for herself, not least because Buffy had loved her, and for that reason alone she knew that he would have made the effort to be there for her, if he could. But he hadn't been near. 

She could understand if Xandor or one of the others had ordered him away, but Spike was resourceful and wouldn't let them stop him. But there had been no word, no message, nothing. 

As Dawn tip toed past Giles on her way to the front door she passed the dining table. Out of pure curiosity she read the page which Giles had left open. It was an account, by a watcher, of the death of his Slayer. Dawn choked back her tears by a huge effort of will. 

Carefully, she let herself out of Giles' house. Willow was due back later this morning, after having been to the big city to tell Angel. Angel, another one who hadn't been there for her sister.

By the time she drew near the graveyard, she almost knew what she would find there. It was like a picture that she knew she had seen but did not want to see again. There it was, laid out in half lights, blacks, greys and whites. Buffy's grave was grey, the form alongside it was grey and white and it's coat was black.

"Spike!"

Dawn ran towards the grave. The form lifted it’s head,

"Little bit?"

"Spike, where have you been? I've been so worried about you. Are you OK?"

The vampire held out a white, translucent hand to her.

"Not been too well, li'le bit. Can’t shake it off, either. Thought I'd come to see your big sister, see what she could recommend."

Dawn looked at Spike and the grave and then at the sky. It was near to dawn.   
Suddenly, in flash of knowledge, she knew Spike had meant to put an end to his existence here.

"You told Buffy that you would look after me," she said accusingly, dropping his hand.

There was a long pause before the vampire answered,

"You shouldn't trust the undead to keep a promise."

"You're sick, aren't you?"

There was a long silence, before Spike asked,

"Does Giles know where you are?"

Seeing a quick advantage she replied,

"No. I've run away."

Spike's eyes stayed closed as he asked,

"Run away from what? You're safe now."

When she didn't immediately answer, he looked up at her.

"Well? What are you running away from?"

"I haven't run away," she finally admitted. "I came to find you. I've missed you. I don't want you to go away like everyone else has gone."

"Oh Dawnie! I'm sorry love…" 

The rest of his sentence was lost in a fit of convulsive shivering. He coughed and retched and then curled up in a ball, holding his belly. In an instant Dawn was on her knees beside him, stroking his face. His skin was warm, far too warm, and he was sweating profusely. For a long time after he stopped shaking he lay still. Unconscious or just exhausted she couldn't tell, then, without opening his eyes, he began to speak to her.

"Dawnie?"

"I'm still here Spike."

"Are you still staying with Giles?"

"Yes."

"You need to go back to him, love."

 

"Yes, Giles'll know what to do. I'll bring him back here."

She glanced up at the sky seeing the tell tale streaks of the sun rising.

"We haven't got time, the sun's coming up. You need to get under cover."

Slowly and painfully Spike shook his head.

"You're going to kill yourself!" she shrieked at him, "You can't! You can't leave me too!"

"Dawnie, Dawnie! I'm not healing. I can't feed…."

"I'll get you some blood. You can have some of my blood."

"Shush. Listen to me. Something came through from another dimension when the portal opened and it bit me. Since then I haven't been able to keep any blood down and I'm not healing at all. It's made me ill." 

He swallowed hard before continuing, 

"I'm in pain and it's getting worse. This is the only thing left to do but I don't want you to see it, Li'll bit. Go home to Giles and let him look after you. He's a good man."

Dawn was sobbing by the end of his speech.

"No! I can't leave you here. You can't die."

He smiled ruefully,

"I've been dead for a very long time."

With the last of his strength he took her hand and kissed it.

"Be happy, love."

Angrily she slapped his arm and shoulders, shouting over and over,

"No! No! No! No!"

As quickly as the tirade began it stopped when she realised Spike was unconscious. 

In the early morning light he really did look ill. He had lost such a lot of weight, in amongst the bruising and dried blood the bones of his face stood out in stark relief. 

She picked up his hand and held it between both of hers. Even his hand was thin and so pale she could see the blue veins and his bones through his skin. Quickly she looked around, making a decision. He had helped her in the past, when she didn't know where to turn. Now it was her turn. 

She took both of his hands in hers and began to drag him towards a crypt. Even unconscious he moaned in pain. Then she remembered him saying he wasn't healing, so he would still have broken bones from when he had been flung off the crane. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she gritted her teeth and continued to drag him away from Buffy's grave.

 

By the time she had pulled Spike into the crypt, the sky was light and the sun had broken through, beginning another hot Californian day. Even with his huge weight loss, Spike was still heavy enough to cause Dawn a lot of hard work getting him inside and out of the sun. 

She sat beside him getting her breath back then tried to make him more comfortable on the stone floor. She straightened his body out, trying to hurt him as little as possible, then took his head onto her lap, leaning back against the stone wall. As best she could she wiped his face with her pocket handkerchief and tried to smooth his hair down, not knowing what else to do. Spike didn't move at all. 

As the sun climbed higher in the sky she was torn between letting the Scooby gang know she was OK but not wanting to leave Spike alone. If he came round whilst it was still daylight and decided to go ahead with his plan to end it all she would never forgive herself. 

By the way her stomach was rumbling she thought it must be well past noon and she was getting cramp from sitting in one position for so long. Carefully she settled Spike's head on the floor and got up to walk about, restoring the circulation to her legs. 

As the day wore on Dawn got more and more thirsty. She needed something to drink very badly but her original dilemma remained. She didn't want to leave Spike alone. Finally the need for liquid drove her out into the sunshine. 

As quickly as she could she ran through the graveyard and onto the street beyond. She had seen a hotdog vendor at the corner many times in the past. Her luck held. With the little money she had in her pockets she bought four cans of soda and a dog with everything on it, then ran back the way she had come, looking around quickly before she ducked back into the crypt. Spike was beginning to wake up. 

She opened one of the cans of soda and offered him a drink, which he refused. She took a long cooling draft then offered him the food, again he refused. 

"Dawn. Is Dawn alright Buffy?" he asked, hanging on to her hand.

"I'm fine Spike. It's me, it's Dawn."

He swallowed painfully,

"We will beat Glory, Buffy. Or I'll die trying. Always thought I'd go down fighting, anyway."

He coughed and turned his head away. Dawn realised he didn't know where he was or who she was. He was either reliving a conversation or imagining a conversation with her sister.

"Spike. Spike wake up."

Slowly his eyes opened and began to focus on her.

"Dawn?"

"Yes, it me."

"What are you doing here? Buffy's going to be worried about you. You should go home."

"Buffy knows where I am," she told him, playing along with his fantasy.

He muttered something she couldn't catch.

"Spike. Do you want something to drink Spike?"

"Yeah, got any Jay Dee?"

"Soda or nothing."

"I guess it'd better be soda then."

He made a valiant attempt to grin at her, but it changed to a grimace as he tried to move. He took a sip from the can, but refused any more.

"Do you want me to find you some blood?" she asked hesitantly.

He shook his head slightly.

"No point. Can't keep it down."

He was silent for a time, then he took a good look around.

"How did we get in here?"

"I brought you in here. The sun was coming up."

"You dragged me all the way in here? By yourself?"

She nodded, taking another healthy pull from the can of soda.

He sighed, closed his eyes and seemed to go to sleep. Every now and then spasms racked him and he gasped, turning his face away from her, trying to hide his pain.

"Oh Spike! Can I do anything to help?"

"Yeah," he finally gasped, "Find Mr Pointy and use it."

"No! There's got to be something else we can do. I can go and get Giles. He'll know what to do."

"Dawnie love, I'm sorry but you need to face it, I'm dying. I can't eat or drink. I can barely move."

Dawn began to sob again. Awkwardly Spike held her against him, trying not to wince as she jostled his broken ribs. 

"Hush love, hush. Don't cry for me."

It didn't comfort her as he'd hoped, instead she only cried all the more. He knew he was going to pass out quite soon when his vision began to grey out.

"Sorry love," he murmured then fell silent.

 

It was well after dark when Giles and Angel found them in the same position. Dawn had fallen asleep in Spike's arms. Spike hadn't awoken again. 

"She's here!" Angel shouted, waking Dawn in the process.

Giles hugged her to him, relief at having found her unharmed over ruling everything else. She hugged him back then fought out of his embrace saying,

"Giles, you've got to help Spike. He's sick."

Angel had been looking over his grand-childe, seeing all the telltale signs of starvation. 

"Vampire's don't get sick Dawn," Giles gently corrected her.

"He said something bit him when the portal started to open. Since then he hasn't healed and he can't eat."

Giles looked at Angel.

"She's right about him not eating, he's starving." 

Angel touched Spike's face. "He's far too warm as well. I've not heard of vampires getting sick, but if he was human I'd say he had a fever."

"Be careful with him," she begged as Angel made to move him. "We can take him to my house, can't we Giles?"

Giles wasn't sure what to say.

"Please! He did help us."

"I know he helped us, Dawn," he agreed, then made the mistake of looking in her pleading eyes. "Oh very well. We'll take him to your house, but you must promise to go straight to my house afterwards. Willow, Tara and the others have been frantic about you all day."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't leave him. He..," she stopped and swallowed, "He was trying to kill himself when I found him."

"Spike was trying to kill himself?" Angel asked in tones of disbelief.

"I found him by Buffy's grave when the sun was coming up. He was too ill to move himself so when he passed out I dragged him in here. I think I hurt him a lot as well. He says he's in a lot of pain."

"We'll take care of him now," Angel promised her. "You go with Giles and I'll bring Spike along."

"I'm coming with you," Dawn replied decisively. "You'll need me to give you permission to enter the house."

Angel nodded, then turned his attention to the other vampire. Delicately and gently he picked Spike up in his arms. His feather-weight told Angel the other vampire was indeed starving to death. 

 

"Come in both of you," Dawn intoned formally from just inside the doorway. "Bring him upstairs we can put him in Mom's room."

Angel followed her, thinking how quickly this little girl was having to grow up. 

Dawn had turned the quilt back by the time he reached the bedroom. He put Spike down on the bed whilst Dawn fussed with the pillows, then he began to unlace his boots. Giles followed a few minutes later.

"I've called Willow and Tara and they are on their way over. I've asked them to bring some blood."

"Dawn, can you find me some big scissors or a sharp knife?" Angel asked.

"Why?"

"We'll cause him less pain if we cut his clothes off him, rather than undressing him," he replied.

"There should be some scissors in the kitchen, " she said, heading off down the stairs.

As soon as she was out of earshot Angel sat on the bed looking at Spike.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Giles asked quietly.

"I've seen starving vampires before, but they're usually so hungry they're in game face all the time and they can't be reasoned with. They're not unconscious."

"Don't you think he's starving?"

"Yes, he certainly looks like he's starving but there's something else here. I think Dawn's right, he is sick."

Angel's sharper hearing picked up Dawn's light footsteps returning. Gently, he eased off Spike's boots.

Dawn handed him a large pair of kitchen scissors and two sharp carving knives. 

Spike's leather coat was too tough for the knives to handle so Angel eased it away from the still form on the bed, pulling it from under Spike. As he was doing so a strange configuration of holes in the right shoulder region of the coat caught his attention. Puzzled, he stared then he cut along the seams of Spike's black T-shirt. A corresponding set of holes were cut into the cotton. As carefully as if he were handling a child Angel turned Spike to he could look at his back. Incised into the skin over his right shoulder blade were three long score marks with a deep puncture wound in the middle. The marks looked angry and red, the skin around them puffy and seeping blood tinged fluid. Gingerly Angel touched his back. Spike's skin was burning hot there.

"What do you make of that?" he asked Giles.

"I don't know. But I would say it's the cause of the problem. He's been infected by something," Giles replied thoughtfully. "I'll have to check my books."

"I'll get the first aid kit," Dawn said, going downstairs again.

Taking advantage of her absence, completely sensible that Dawn was still a child, Angel efficiently slit both side seams of Spike's jeans and removed them, knowing Spike didn't usually bother with underwear. He flipped the quilt over, covering him decently before she returned. 

Giles made a quick sketch of the wound before taping some gauze over it, whilst Angel held him. Then they cleaned up, as best they could, all the other injuries they could see. Spike started to wake just as they finished taping him up. 

"Peaches?"

"Yeah, it's me," Angel replied.

"'Must be dreamin' again. Not seen you near my bed in decades."

Giles' eyebrows almost hit his hairline as he glanced at Angel then down at Spike. He cleared his throat hoping that Dawn wouldn't pick up the sub-text of that remark.

"Spike, you're at Bu….errr Dawn's house. Dawn found you in the graveyard. It looks like you've been scratched or bitten by something. Did you see what it was?"

Spike shook his head.

"Just felt a pain in my back."

"Why haven't you been feeding?" Angel asked.

"Been trying to, can't keep it down. Could do with some water though."

"I'll get you some," Dawn said leaving the room again.

"Listen to me, Peaches. Promise me you'll look after her."

"Thought that was your job," Angel replied, sounding flip.

"I bloody mean it, you old pouf! Whatever bit me is killing me, so promise."

"Alright I promise."

"And you can promise me something else as well. Make sure Dawn's out of the house then find one of Buffy's stakes and use it on me," he bit back a moan as his face contorted with pain. As the wave of agony receded he opened his eyes and fixed them on his grand-sire's face. "You can at least make it quick. I don't want to hang about like this for a long time."

"You just need to feed."

"You really don't bloody listen do you? I can’t feed!" he shouted.

"Willow and Tara are on their way over. They’re bringing some blood with them. At least try."

Spike sighed and said nothing. Angel was nothing if not persistent. 

When Spike had barfed the third bag of blood back, all over Angel, even he was convinced. Spike lay back on the pillows, his face greyish white, sweating and exhausted with his efforts.

"Now do you believe me?" he asked faintly.

"Sorry Spike."

"That's a bleedin' first! You apologising to me," he said, without opening his eyes.

Hesitantly Dawn crept forward and wiped his face with a damp cloth, cleaning away the spilled blood from his skin.

"Thanks sweetheart," he murmured.

Not knowing what else to do Giles stood up and announced his intention of returning to his shop and consulting the books there. Angel said quietly to him,

"Take everyone else with you as well. If he suddenly starts getting crazy I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"Do you really think he will? Remember he can’t hurt humans.”

“But we don’t know if whatever has infected him has disabled the chip. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“He looks too weak to open his eyes."

"He looks that way now. Later on who can tell."

Giles nodded and then shepherded everyone out of the house. A deep quiet fell over the building, only broken by Spike's uneven breathing.

"Peaches?"

"Yeah?"

"We alone?"

"Yes."

Spike nodded and subsided quietly.

"Dawn said she found you at Buffy's grave."

"So what?"

"Just in time for the sun rising. A big mistake for you to make."

"Wouldn't have made any more, would I?" he asked opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling.

"Would you have gone through with it?" Angel asked, curiously.

Spike didn't answer for a long time.

"I know she didn't love me, but she treated me like a man, not a monster. And Dawn has taken her lead from Buffy. I knew I didn't have the strength left to get under cover."

Angel felt humbled. It sounded suspiciously like his totally immature grand-childe was growing up. Making a decision he undid the cuff of his shirt and rolled the cloth up his arm. 

"I'm not your sire, but I'm very close in the blood line. You can feed from me."

Angel held his wrist near Spike's mouth expecting him to switch to game face and bite down. Spike licked his lips and swallowed. 

"You know you'll be able to keep my blood down. I'm freely offering it."

Angel waited, but Spike did nothing.

"Come on Spike! Game face on."

"I'm trying!"

Spike concentrated on letting the demon out but the demon didn't answer his call. Frustrated he tried to turn his head away and found he couldn't. He tried again.

"Angel, I can’t move!"

"What?"

"I can't move at all."

Angel leaned over Spike, directly in his eye line. Spike blinked and stared into his eyes trying to cover his panic.

"What's happening to me?"

"I don't know. Giles is trying to find out."

"Angel, promise me if Giles can't help you won't leave me like this."

"I've already promised you."

"I know you. You'll break a promise if you think you can get away with it."

"Then why didn't you ask Giles or Xandor? Xandor would stake you in a second, and love it."

"'Cos you're family."

"Angelus was family."

"Bloody ‘ell! Don't go soft on me now."

Angel could see the fear in Spike's eyes.

"Can you feel anything?"

"Everything's gone numb. At least it's stopped hurting quite so much."

Angel leaned over and placed a kiss on Spike's forehead, then said quietly,

"I promise I won't leave you like this."

Slightly reassured Spike calmed a little.

Angel picked up one of the knives from the bedside table and very coolly cut into his own arm, letting the blood drip onto Spike's lips. Hungrily, Spike licked up every drop. Then Angel placed the cut directly against his mouth, letting the other vampire take what he needed. Spike wasn't strong enough to take much blood from him but even this was enough to arouse Angel almost to the point of pain. 

The sensation of letting another vampire feed from him was so totally erotic. Angel could feel the pull of the blood as it left his body. The feeling of Spike suckling on his arm, the warmth of his lips and tongue as he desperately drew sustenance into himself. Then the cut was closing and Spike was languidly running his tongue along the soft skin on the underside of his arm and wrist. 

"That brings back memories," Spike said softly, watching Angel through heavy lidded eyes.

Angel made a valiant effort to control his arousal but Spike didn't miss his accelerated breathing nor the flush along his face and neck.

"Been a while?" Spike asked, sounding almost sympathetic.

Angel gave a rueful smile,

"Too long."

"Sorry mate, I can't even give you hand at the moment."

Angel grinned and tousled Spike's hair.

"Your jokes haven't improved much."

Spike raised his eyebrows which made Angel laugh at the patently false come-on.

"You English have a very good phrase to cover that offer. Tell your mouth to stop writing cheques that your body can't cash! Now get some rest."

"Where are you going?" Spike asked, suddenly serious again. He didn't want to be left alone.

For answer Angel walked around to the other side of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt, then taking it off. He slid into bed, plumped up the pillows, stacked them against the headboard and lay back.

"Can't see you there."

Deftly Angel pulled Spike towards him until his back was leaning against his chest and the rest of his body was lying between Angel's legs.

"Comfortable?"

"Don't know," Spike replied honestly, "Can't feel a thing."

"Get some rest," Angel advised again.

 

Hours later Angel awoke suddenly. At first he couldn't tell what had brought him awake, then a warm hand shook his shoulder again. He looked up. Giles put his finger to his lips and motioned him to get out of bed quietly. Spike had slipped down in his sleep and was sprawled awkwardly across him. Carefully Angel disentangled himself, straightened Spike up a little, then followed Giles out of the bedroom. Spike didn't even twitch. He followed the older man downstairs into the kitchen, to be confronted by a very quiet Willow, Tara and Dawn. Dawn's eyes were red rimmed as if she had been crying a lot.

Giles seated himself at the kitchen table and stared into space.

"Have you found something?" Angel asked breaking the strained silence.

"Yes. It wasn't actually that difficult either," Giles replied as he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's been infected by a parasite. A particularly unwholesome parasite."

"I didn't think the vampire would allow that."

"I think you'll find the vampire in him has been suppressed. Probably why he couldn't keep the blood down."

"He managed to feed a little from me."

Giles nodded, then made several attempts to start speaking again, only to stop after a few seconds. Willow and Tara exchanged looks before Willow produced a glass jar containing something that looked like black mud. Tara placed a long metal poker on the table near him with its end covered in cloth. She took the cloth off suddenly and Angel hissed, drawing back away from the metal cross.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Tara said hurriedly, covering the end again.

"What is this?" Angel asked.

"As I said, the erm, bite mark wasn't hard to track down at all. The F'diack demon has infected many people over the course of history. However, not many have lived beyond the third day of infection. I can't find any evidence of anyone living for three weeks after being infected. The books say the pain is really quite special. Most take their own lives very soon after being infected. We, er, discovered this, this cure. It has been attempted on a number of occasions but by the time the bite has been diagnosed, the human is usually completely insane and paralysed."

"Spike's a vampire. He's a lot stronger than a human," Angel said.

"Which is no doubt why he's lasted this long."

"Just after you left, he found he couldn't move," Angel told them quietly.

Giles nodded and continued with his lecture.

"The parasitic spawn keep the host body alive and aware but paralyse it. The spawn digest the host from the inside until they are strong enough to eat their way out through the skin or hide."

Angel closed his eyes. In the past he could have happily staked the bleached blonde vampire countless times, but that would have been quick, not like this. Being slowly eaten away from the inside.

"You have a cure. Let's get on with it."

When no-one made a move, Angel looked questioningly at them. 

"Er, the cure does have one major drawback," Giles paused, seemingly unable to continue.

"What?" Angel asked, none too delicately.

"Every other time it has been used, it, erm, it killed the host as well as the spawn," Giles finally admitted.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening until Angel said,

"He asked me to stake him if you couldn't help."

Dawn bit back a sob and put her hand over her mouth.

"I think that would be the kindest thing to do," Giles said as he placed one of Buffy's stakes on the table between them. "Then the spawn will die as well. It'll be quicker than waiting, and far less painful for him than using that." 

Giles nodded towards the jar of black mud.

Dawn began to sob again.

"You can't do that! At least give him a chance," she cried. "Buffy asked him to look after me and you're not letting him do that," she continued, hoping that mention of her sister's name would act like a talisman on them.

"We know she did," Willow said gently, "But Spike is very, very ill."

"Please! Please Willow! Let me go and talk to him," Dawn begged.

Angel and Giles swapped worried looks. Dawn was not going to accept this easily.

"Dawn," Giles began, "He is very ill, as Willow says, and he's in a lot of pain. We would be abusing our humanity if we continued to let him suffer any more."

"You're talking about him like he wouldn't be able to make his own decision. He's not a dumb animal. Please let me talk to him."

"Dawn, he doesn't want to live like that. He's already told me," Angel told her softly.

"Please Angel. Let me just go and talk to him."

Angel looked into her tear stained face and his courage deserted him.

"I'll go and speak to him first," he replied, getting up and heading for the stairs.

When he entered the bedroom Spike asked,

"Is that Dawnie I can hear crying? What's going on?"

Angel explained.

"I'm bloody pregnant?"

"Giles uses the word infected."

"He would, poncy bugger. I don't believe this!"

"Dawn seems to think trying this so called cure will give you a chance," Angel finished.

"What does Giles think?"

"Giles thinks it will kill you, but not be as quick as using this." Angel straightened out his sleeve and the sharpened wood dropped into his hand.

Spike looked at the stake then lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before he asked,

“What do you think?”

“It’s up to you.”

“You’re a big help!”

“Come on Spike you know the choices! This one is final,” Angel placed the sharp end of the wood against Spike’s chest. “The other outcome isn’t as clear cut. You might survive, you might not. Either way, it’s going to hurt.”

“What would you choose?”

“Me?” Angel walked away from the bed, taking the stake with him. “I think I’d try for survival. I’ve been to hell, I’m not anxious for a revisit.”

Spike lay staring, disconcertingly at Angel for a long while. The older vampire was starting to feel very uncomfortable until Spike said,

"I'll give this cure a try, but Dawn doesn't stay here. She goes to Giles' place with the witches."

"You really think Dawn is going to agree with that?"

"She will if I tell her. Send her up and let me talk to her." 

Angel went to the door then stopped as Spike ordered,

“Oy! Prop me up a bit before you go.”

Sighing Angel returned to the bed and banked all the pillows into the middle and then propped the younger vampire against them.

“OK, send her in.”

“Spike seemed to have perked up quite a lot since he had fed slightly or perhaps it was just the absence of pain.

Angel went downstairs and brought Dawn to Spike, who waited pointedly until Angel left the room.

“Go and shut the door Dawn,” Spike said firmly.

Dawn looked at Angel apologetically as she shut the door quietly in his face. 

Even with his enhanced hearing Angel couldn’t tell precisely what was being said.  
Whatever was discussed it took some time. Angel heard the odd sob from Dawn but nothing much more than the low rumble of Spike’s voice. Eventually a very subdued Dawn emerged.

“I think he needs you, Angel,” she said quietly as she went downstairs. 

Angel hesitantly entered the bedroom. Spike was as white as a sheet.

“Spike?” he said softly, laying a hand on his forehead. Angel could feel him sweating, shaking and he was breathing hard. Wearily he opened his eyes.

“Who’s that?” Spike whispered.

“It’s me, Angel.”

Spike licked his dry, cracked lips and closed his eyes. 

Angel perched himself on the edge of the bed. It looked like the foregoing discussion was going to be rather an academic exercise after all. Spike appeared to be very near death. It crossed Angel’s mind that what he should really do was dust Spike now. He had just reached out his hand to pick up the stake when Spike said softly,

“Peaches?”

“I’m here.”  
“Promised Dawnie we’d give the mud cure a go.”

“What! Why? You know it’s not likely to work.”

Spike didn’t answer immediately which gave Angel time to catch up with the other vampire’s reasoning.

“You’re not doing it for you, you’re doing it make Dawn feel better,” he said, more to himself than to Spike. Was it possible that Spike had developed a soul?

“Spike, we can end this now,” Angel softly told him, picking up the stake again.

“Be doing me a favour if you did, but I promised,” he gasped in reply.

Angel looked down in exasperation at him.

“Must be something about these Summer’s women,” he said finally.

Spike’s lips twitched in the nearest he could get to a smile. 

Angel leaned forward pressing his forehead to Spike’s for a few moments before asking,

“Do you think you could manage to feed?”

“Dunno,” he whispered honestly.

Angel pulled most of the pillows from under Spike’s head until he was lying virtually flat. Switching to game face he savagely bit into his own forearm then laid the bleeding cut, as he had before, against Spike’s lips. This time Spike didn’t even open his eyes as he feebly licked at the few drops of red life that he could reach. 

Angel sighed. At this rate, feeding Spike blood by the drop, it would take days before he’d had enough to make a difference. He pulled his arm away and brought the cut to his own mouth. Deepening the wound with his teeth he drew in a mouthful of his own blood, then lay beside Spike, fitting his lips over the other’s mouth, he let the life giving fluid pass from his mouth into Spike’s. All the while Angel carefully massaged Spike’s throat to help him to swallow. 

When Giles ran up the stairs he encountered the strange sight of Angel lying alongside Spike, apparently passionately kissing him whilst also trying to strangle him one-handed. Well, he could certainly understand the latter impulse if not the former.

“Angel,” Giles said uncertainly.

Angel growled at the unexpected interruption turning his blood spattered visage towards Giles. Giles stepped back involuntarily.

“Is it all ready?” Angel asked, the question sounding more like a threat.

“Yes, we’re ready. Dawn is with Tara. Willow and I are downstairs waiting.”

Angel nodded then drew in a final mouthful of blood and fed it to his grand-childe. When he turned back to Giles he looked quite normal. He wiped the smeared blood from his own mouth and then wiped Spike’s face with the cloth Dawn had left there earlier. Giles flushed at his misperception. Of course, Angel was having to feed Spike with his own blood and Spike was obviously too weak to do it himself.

“Is there a bathrobe or something around that he can wear?” Angel asked.

“What?”

“Something to wear? We had to cut his jeans off, remember?” Angel supplied hopefully.

“Is he really going to go through with this?” Giles asked, rather appalled. He didn’t relish the idea of being an instrument of torture, even when it was a vampire he would be torturing.

I can speak for myself!” Spike ground out.

“I’m sorry Spike,” Giles apologised. “When Dawn told me you’d agreed I thought you were only trying to make her feel better.”

“I was. But I promised her I’d do it and I will,” he replied, very firmly.

“Very well. I suggest we do this in the kitchen. Willow and I will take some quilts and pillows down there. Joyce may have kept some of Buffy’s father’s clothing around.”

Giles called Willow and together they set about stripping all the beds and the linen closet. Angel rummaged through wardrobes and finally found a pair of pants which would fit Spike. Fit being perhaps the wrong word but they did at least cover him decently. After Angel had dressed Spike he leaned across into his eye line and asked,

“How are you feeling?”

Spike snorted softly before replying,

“Been better.”

Tenderly Angel gathered Spike up in arms, trying not to jostle his injuries. Spike’s head rested against the hollow of his shoulder. Softly Angel kissed the chill, dry lips.

“What was that for?” Spike asked.

“Love and bravery,” Angel replied.

“Only one kiss for all that?”

Angel smiled and kissed him again, this time lingering but still gentle. He knew Spike was terrified and making every effort not to show it. And he did genuinely think Spike was being brave. Willing to go through what would undoubtedly be a very painful end simply because Dawn had faith that it would cure him. He carried Spike to the kitchen and laid him in the nest of quilts. 

Willow said,

“Giles wants to talk to you. He’s in there,” she nodded towards the lounge. 

As he was leaving he could hear Willow talking quietly to Spike.

Giles was pacing the lounge like a caged animal. He began to speak without preamble,

"You do realise you are going to have to hold him down, don't you? " Giles asked.

"I'll do it."

"When that parasite starts to die it is going to hurt him."

"Giles, I'll handle it!"

Giles took off his glasses.  
“This just feels like we’re going to be torturing him. It feels so wrong!”

“It’s what he wants to do. We all know the odds. If he wants to go out fighting let him,” Angel said.

Giles sighed as he told Angel,

“I’ve already begun to heat the iron.”

"How do we apply... that stuff?" Angel asked.

"We pack the wound with it, Willow does her bit and then we activate it by placing the red hot iron over the packed wound."

Angel winced.

"I've already told you Angel this is not going to be pleasant. Do you wish to reconsider?"

He shook his head. Suddenly there was a shout from the kitchen. Both of them rushed back into the room. Spike’s eyes had rolled back in his head and he was shaking from head to foot with convulsions. Under his skin small shapes were moving about all over his body, forming and reforming in lumps and sinuously rolling shapes.

“I was just talking to him when that started,” Willow said, tears running down her cheeks.

“Quickly, we haven’t much time, the spawn is about to hatch,” Giles said sharply, taking control. “Angel, lift him so we can get at the bite.”

He lifted Spike so that they were leaning together, chest to chest. He held the blonde head against his shoulder. Spike’s convulsions making it difficult to hold him still whilst Giles took the gauze away. The bite wound had begun to turn green at the edges.

Carefully Giles packed the black mud into all of the marks on Spikes white skin, whilst Willow chanted the incantations. Slowly the viscous black mud began to change colour. It took on a purple hue and became slightly more liquid. Then Spike’s convulsions began to quiet down.

“Hold him!” Giles said carefully.

Angel tightened his grip as Giles picked up the red hot metal cross which had been heating on the stove.

As the heated metal cross burned into his skin Spike began to scream. Angel held on tight to his bucking, struggling grand-childe, then, most unexpectedly, the vampire demon joined in the fight for it's very survival. Spike went into game face and howled, then sank his fangs into Angel's neck, releasing Angel's his own demon. Giles and Willow drew back from the frightening spectacle of two vampires fighting and grappling together.

"Giles, go!" Angel snarled, trying to hold on to a suddenly very active and maddened Spike.

Giles and Willow needed no second bidding. With a roar of anger and pain Angel tore Spike's fangs from his throat and then forced Spike down onto the nest of quilts and used his superior weight to pin him down until he stopped thrashing about.

Angel watched as Spike carried on screaming, the unnatural movement beneath his skin becoming quicker as the spawn thrashed in their death throes. Then suddenly the movement stopped as did the screaming. The silence almost hurt.

Spike was panting, his chest heaving as he managed to gasp out,

"Get off me you big lump!"

Angel reversed their positions so that he was beneath Spike, but he still held on to him. Spike struggled a little more, echoing the dying moments of the parasite within him, then went very, very still. For a few seconds Angel held on tightly, expecting the struggling to start again. Then Spike lifted his head, in full game face, and very clearly extremely hungry. He made a lunge for Angel's neck again, the scent of blood so close sending him out of his mind. Angel had no intention of allowing him to feed from himself in this state. He knew Spike was starving and could quite literally drain him.

"Spike, Spike! Listen to me, there's blood upstairs, plenty of it."

The weakened vampire in his arms growled and fought.

"Spike, listen to me!"

Spike was well beyond hearing words, he inched closer to Angel's torn neck, drooling at the prospect of feeding. Angel flung Spike away from him and got to his knees. Spike tried to make his weakened body move quickly but he didn't have enough energy or strength. Getting to his feet Angel turned quickly and picked up the stake Giles had left behind.

"Spike! One more step Spike and I'll stake you myself. You're not feeding from me in that state."

Angel waited, seeing the involuntary reaction of the vampire on beholding the sharpened wooden stick.

"Come on Spike, come back to me."

With a superhuman effort Spike returned to human form, chest heaving, his whole body shaking.

"I'm so hungry," he gasped out piteously, immediately turning his gaze on the long streaks of blood decorated Angel's chest. He switched back to game face.

"Spike, I mean it."

Angel waved the wood in front of him. Spike dropped to his knees, what little energy he had almost spent.

"Help me!" he whispered, switching back to normal again.

Angel turned and galloped upstairs into Joyce's bedroom. He gathered as many bags of blood as he could in both hands and then came back downstairs. He threw two bags at Spike who fell on them, draining them in seconds and then looked at Angel for more. 

For the next few minutes Angel threw a bag of blood at him and watched him devour it. He saw Spike's skin begin to flush with warmth and colour, and before his eyes the translucent white wraith began to revert and start to put back a little of his original muscle tone. Draining his ninth bag Spike looked up at Angel, blood smeared across his mouth, running down his chin and very much calmer.

"More?"

Spike shook his head.

"No, not yet."

He finished the bag leisurely, then threw it across the kitchen.

"How do you feel?" Angel asked.

"Better."

He went across to Spike and held him in his arms. Spike’s head immediately went down to the bloody streaks on Angel’s chest and neck and began to lick the blood away. When he got to the torn skin he asked softly,

“Angel?”

For answer Angel held Spike’s head close to the wound. Spike settled in to suckle contentedly. 

Angel stroked his back and his hair until he felt the torn skin close. Spike finished lapping and then dropped a kiss on Angel’s throat. Angel smiled. He could feel Spike almost purring like a drowsy kitten under his hands. He stood and pulled Spike to his feet. The other vampire swayed in Angel's arms.

Angel planted a kiss on Spike's forehead before saying,

"You are going to be in payback for the next millennium for this."

"Fine, you can have my soul later," Spike replied, heavy on the sarcasm.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" Spike asked, wanting nothing more than twelve hours of solid sleep.

"Bed. Then you can work out how you are going to repay me."

 

Quietly Giles let himself in to the house. All seemed to be very quiet. He left the door open and made a tour of the lounge then moved into the kitchen. Empty bags of blood littered the floor but the two vampires were no where to be seen. A movement on the stairs caught his eye and he looked up to see Angel standing there out of the way of a shaft of sunlight, a mug in either hand.

"Angel! Has Spike survived?"

"The door."

"Pardon?"

"Shut the door!"

"Oh! Yes of course. I'm sorry."

He shut the door on the daylight outside then continued,

"Dawn wanted to know, she asked me to come and ask."

"He's survived. He's still weak but he's better. The parasite spawn seem to be dead."

Angel walked across to the fridge and pulled out two bags of blood, placed them in the microwave and set the timer.

"Dawn would like to see him."

"Tomorrow Giles. He's still quite hungry. I don't want her to be frightened."

Giles smiled. Don't think she would ever be frightened of Spike, no matter what he did, but I'll tell her. Do you require further supplies?"

"Tomorrow, yes. And, thank you Giles."

The older man looked up seemingly confused for a few seconds, then gave Angel a quick smile and let himself out, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Angel strode across and locked the door. He didn't want to be disturbed again for the next few hours. He emptied the warm blood into the mugs and took them back upstairs.

"Who was that?" asked a sleepy voice from the bed.

"Giles. On a mission from Dawn, wanting to know how you are."

Spike turned over onto his back and smiled.

"What did you tell him?"

"That you were making a good recovery," he replied, putting both mugs down on the bedside table, then helping Spike to sit up. 

Spike winced as his healing ribs pulled a little, then he settled back against the heaped pillows. Angel slid into bed beside Spike and then handed him one of the mugs. 

They drank slowly in silence, enjoying the meal. Spike handed his emptied mug back to Angel and then lay down on his back while Angel settled between Spike's legs, taking most of his body weight on his forearms before beginning to sensuously kiss Spike's face, ending at his lips, where he nibbled and licked. 

Several minutes later Angel moved his explorations down Spike's neck then onto his chest, licking and sucking on his nipples. Spike moaned softly then said,

"If you want it again Peaches, you're going to have to do all the work."

Angel lifted his mouth from Spike’s hardened nipple.

"You're not doing very well here," he commented, returning to his task with renewed vigour.

Spike tried to sound hurt but when he was enjoying Angel's ministrations so much it came out as breathless.

"Hey! I was at death's door a few hours ago!" he whimpered.

"But you've been to heaven's gate a few times since then," Angel replied smugly.

Spike laughed, pulling Angel's head down for a long kiss.

"Turn over," Angel whispered in his ear.

Spike did as he was asked, spreading his legs then sighing in contentment as Angel sank into his body, once again. Angel nibbled and kissed along the nape of Spike's neck making him shiver before he entwined his fingers with Spike's and asked,

"Alright?"

Spike nodded then sighed, completely at ease, as Angel settled in for a long, slow bout of making love to him. 

Give him his due, Spike thought, the old ponce had been very gentle with him, taking care not to jostle his healing injuries, but it certainly wouldn't do to let Angel know just how much he was enjoying this payback.


End file.
